


green, yellow, red, black

by thermodynamicActivity



Series: The Collegestuck 'Verse [47]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Death, Gen, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Grief/Mourning, Humanstuck, Major Illness, Mental Health Issues, New York City, Police Brutality, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24589630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thermodynamicActivity/pseuds/thermodynamicActivity
Summary: On March 7th, 2020, Governor Cuomo declares a state of emergency for the state of New York, in response to a rising number of cases of COVID-19, for which there is neither a vaccine nor FDA approved treatment.By March 23rd, life in New York City has slowed to a halt, with schools, parks, and all nonessential businesses ordered to close. New guidelines are put into effect to slow the spread of the virus. Gatherings of more than six people are prohibited.By April 1st, social distancing, wearing a mask outside, and only venturing outdoors out of absolute necessity have all become a vital part of a "new normal" way of functioning.But nothing feels normal about this. And as people who took all necessary precautions start getting sick, it's unclear who was fooling whom, when all of you thought any of this could be normalized.
Relationships: Kanaya Maryam & Porrim Maryam, Mituna Captor/Latula Pyrope, Mituna Captor/Porrim Maryam/Latula Pyrope, Porrim Maryam/Meenah Peixes, The Disciple/The Psiioniic | The Helmsman/The Signless | The Sufferer
Series: The Collegestuck 'Verse [47]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/189914
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	green, yellow, red, black

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the triage tag colors used in mass casualty incidents.
> 
> This is going to update every other week and span from February 2020 to June 2020, with flashbacks to other collegestuck time periods where appropriate. I've been planning this out since the early days of quarantine, for lack of anything better to do.
> 
> Now, more than ever, I am using my writing as an outlet for coping with the scary things around me. Mind the trigger warnings. It's only going to get worse from here.
> 
> For anyone who may have forgotten the names i gave the human ancestors in this AU, all of whom are going to appear at some point:  
> Krishna Vandayar - The Signless  
> Esther Matin - The Handmaid  
> Ignacio Narvaez - The Summoner  
> Simon Cao - The Psiioniic  
> Yekaterina "Katya" Levin-Vandayar - The Disciple  
> Dolores Martineau - The Dolorosa  
> Marisol Perez - Neophyte Redglare  
> Masae Sakamoto - Mindfang  
> Farzin Ali-Zadeh - Executor Darkleer  
> Irfan Mahzun - Grand Highblood  
> Alessio Amalberti - Orphaner Dualscar  
> Dr. Cecily Perlman (nee Clark) - The Condesce, sorta. One of two characters based on her.  
> Carolyn Clark - The Condesce. The other character based on her.

_**June 2020 - Porrim Maryam** _

Your name is Porrim Maryam and you are tired. You're always tired, now.

You fought a virus, for three and a half weeks, and ultimately triumphed, but at what cost?

You cannot walk the three blocks to the bus stop without having to wheeze. Meenah is still in the hospital, unable to have visitors.

When you get on the B44 bus to report to your temporary post at Kings County hospital, in the morning, the bus is empty but for you, the driver, and this sign between you. The idea of rush hour has become a joke.

Next week is the first week of Phase 1 reopening. You still think it's too early for that, but that is neither here nor there.

Next week is Dr. Perlman's memorial. Your mentor, and AP Biology teacher, who offered to write a college recommendation for you, passed away the second week of May.

You beat COVID-19.

She did not.

She was not the only one who did not.

But you're trying not to think about that.

(Twenty-four thousand dead in three months, and that's just within the five boroughs of New York City.)

You remember the look of passive resignation you saw on Ms. Martineau's face when you told her you'd make sure to be at the memorial. You'd dropped by her home in Crown Heights, after you got out of work, four days ago.

She had nodded at you, nose and mouth covered by a mask.

"You're a good kid, Porrim," she said, squeezing your gloved hand in hers, accepting your offering of kenkey and fried fish with grace. She'd looked carefully through the tupperware containers.

"Oh, you made Cecily's favorites," she added. Then, "She'd love all this stuff."

At that point, Ms. Martineau's voice cracked.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto her blouse, a men's fuchsia button-down that had surely belonged to Dr. Perlman first.

There's a demonstration for George Floyd and against police brutality happening tonight at Barclays Center. You'll check on Ms. Martineau first, then meet up with Krishna, Simon, Kankri, and Latula, in downtown Brooklyn, and head over.

Six feet apart, as usual.

You look in the mirror and wonder how all of you ended up here in June. Sometimes, if you think all the way back to March, to the declaration of quarantine, and a state of emergency, you can almost understand what happened.

You can almost understand how so many people got left behind.

You sigh, and pull the yellow cord above your head so the bus driver knows to let you off at Eastern Parkway.

You get off the bus, enter a deserted train station, and wait for the Brooklyn College bound 2, which is set to arrive in twenty-one minutes.

You won't cry yet. Not now. If you start crying now, you might never stop, and that would be an unprofessional way to clock in.

You try not to dread what you're going to see in the pediatric ICU. At least it's not as bad as it was in April. That's something, isn't it?


End file.
